Life Does Go On
by SqueakyTheDuck
Summary: A short fic about a teenaged Sarah Jane dealing with the death of her best friend, Andrea Yates.


**AN: The plot bunnies! They won't leave me alone! Yeah, there's really no actual plot to this, it's just a scene that's been playing through my head for a couple of weeks now. So I finally** decided to** write it down and see what comes of it. I guess it turned out okay.**

* * *

><p>All was still in the little suburban street. The wind barely whispered and the trees stood silent, as if in vigil. Even the lilting calls of birds were few and far between. It was as if the whole of nature was in mourning.<p>

And well it should be, thought Lavinia Smith, for there was nothing quite so tragic as the death of a child. The fact that that child happened to be her niece's best friend made it all the more sorrowful.

The ride home had been a quiet one. The medic on the scene at Westport Pier had said that Sarah Jane was in shock. She sat perfectly still in the passenger seat as her aunt drove her home, not moving or speaking at all. Lavinia knew it wouldn't last long, and she was right. Mere moments after they got home, Sarah had broken down crying.

Now they were sitting on the sofa; Lavinia wrapped her arms round her niece and held her tightly as Sarah shook with heart-wrenching sobs.

Evening turned to night, twilight became darkness, and clouds converged over the starlit sky. Outside a light, steady rain began to fall. The hours wore on and the rain became a raging thunderstorm.

Neither of them moved from the sofa; Sarah Jane seemed paralyzed by the sobs that racked her. Lavinia stayed beside her, holding her all through the night. A few times she considered trying to say some words of comfort, but she kept silent, knowing that there was nothing she could say just now to ease the pain. She held her niece close and stroked her hair soothingly.

It wasn't until the first few streaks of daylight appeared that Sarah's tears began to subside. She had cried herself out, and now she was spent. Lifting her tear-streaked face from her aunt's shoulder, she spoke for the first time since the accident the day before.

"Feels like nothing can ever be the same again," she sniffled. "Oh Aunt Lavinia, how can I go on from this? How can I go on without Andrea? We've been best friends as long as I can remember."

"Just you lie down here." Lavinia said gently, standing up to make room on the sofa. Sarah complied, another sniffle escaping as she turned on her side, seeking a comfortable position.

"Now then," Lavinia found a blanket and draped it over her niece, then crouched down so she was at eye level with her.

"I know how you feel, Sarah," she said comfortingly. "I felt the same way when your mum and dad died. Eddie was the best big brother ever. And Barbara was a wonderful friend and sister-in-law. I was devastated. I couldn't imagine life without them. But life _does_ go on, even after the death of a loved one. And it hurts. Oh, it hurts terribly. And you're right, nothing will ever be the same—_you'll _never be the same—but I promise you, you _will _get through it."

Another tear escaped from beneath Sarah's half-closed eyelids. "Thank you." she whispered.

Lavinia stood up. "You try and get some rest now, my dear."

Sarah's eyes drifted the rest of the way closed, and Lavinia reached down to brush a loose strand of hair off her niece's face. As Sarah fell asleep, Lavinia leaned down and gently kissed her forehead. "You're gonna be all right, Sarah Jane." She murmured. "You're gonna be all right."

Sarah slept soundly as the morning broke. The sun rose over the rain-soaked city and settled itself in the clear blue sky. The clouds that had brought last night's thunderstorm had vanished, and the stillness had returned.

Around eight o'clock, the phone rang. Lavinia picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hello, Miss Smith." Lavinia recognized the voice of Andrea's seventeen-year-old brother. It carried a heavy undertone of sadness as he asked, "May I speak to Sarah Jane, please?"

"She's sleeping just now," Lavinia said, glancing over at the sofa. "Exhausted, poor child. She was up all night crying."

"Yeah," Andrea's brother said quietly. "None of us got much sleep last night here, either. All right, well, when she wakes up, would you tell her I called?"

"Of course. And give my condolences to your family."

"I will. Thank you. Goodbye, Miss Smith."

"Goodbye, Michael."


End file.
